Full-Time Job
by JennyBunny65
Summary: They say that behind every great man, there is a great woman. This is especially true in the case of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! Sorry it's been awhile since I posted anything. I was rewatching the first Iron Man movie the other night, and it inspired this little fic. Updates will hopefully be every weekend. This story is based on the movies and disregards comic canon (sorry!). Reviews are always appreciated!**

"No, Anna – Anna! Slow down. You're not serious – _England_?"

Pepper Potts stopped suddenly, much to the annoyance of the commuters shuffling around her. One man gave her a particularly dirty look as he crashed into her, glaring and sending her a one-fingered salute as he scurried away.

_Yeah, same to you, buddy_.

"Just, hold on a minute, okay? Let me find a place I won't get run over or cause a pileup."

"_I thought you were walking?_" came the puzzled reply from Pepper's cell.

"I am. I was being – well, never mind." Pepper ducked into a narrow pocket of emptiness – the storefront of an out-of-business shwarma place – and sat on the stairs, placing next to her the beverage carrier containing two cups of steaming, overpriced coffee.

"Now, start from the beginning. I thought you and Chad broke up?"

Anna's voice filtered through the phone, tripping over syllables in her excitement. "_He just showed up and told me that he'd made a huge mistake and he wants me to come with him! He says he's finally ready to be a mature adult and support a family and, Pepper, he wants to get married!_"

Pepper checked the bars on her phone. Yes, her service was fine. Which meant the buzzing was only in her shell-shocked head.

"Yes, but, _England_?" Pepper asked weakly. Her heart was trembling, but she couldn't let her roommate – ex-roommate, it seemed – hear her panic. After all, Anna was her friend, and she really was happy for her, but…

"England?"

Anna sighed impatiently, a great gust of breath that mirrored the wind howling around Pepper. It tugged at her hair, her clothes, urging her to _hurry home and stop her!_

"_Yes, well, you know his firm transferred him over there, and really, I'm glad that he's taking his job seriously. Oh, Pepper, can't you see? This is finally my chance for a happily-ever-after, fairytale romance. It's all I've ever wanted. And I love Chad!_"

You didn't love him two days ago, thought Pepper darkly, but she won't say that out loud. Not now, when Anna's so happy Pepper can see her glowing through the phone lines.

"I am happy for you, sweetie, really. It's just…the rent…"

"_I know. And I'm sorry to dump this on you what with you losing your job and everything, but you know you're always telling me to carpe diem and all that. Well, honey, it's finally my day to seize!_"

"I understand." Pepper stood slowly, hearing the sound of frantic packing in the background. She could picture it now – Anna's curly black hair flying into her eyes and mouth as she spun in frantic circles, trying to make sure she had her deodorant and hairbrush packed. She'd probably forget something important, like her wallet or her laptop, and as soon as she landed she'd be calling Pepper and begging her to ship over the forgotten items. Impulsive and scatterbrained, that was Anna, and these spur-of-the-moment decisions never ended well for her – at least, not in the 20 years Pepper had known her.

But it was too late. Pepper could tell now that this phone call was a courtesy, nothing more. She'd gone out for coffee for fifteen minutes, and when she'd return, it would be to an empty apartment she could no longer afford on her own.

_"Pepper? You okay, sweetie? I'm sorry, I really have to pack, Chad will be back any minute…_"

The call went dead, and it took Pepper three slow seconds before she realized she's dropped her phone. It was an ancient model, a flip phone that fell apart with no encouragement whatsoever. Sure enough, when Pepper went to retrieve it, she saw the battery had fallen out who-the-hell-knew-where.

"Perfect," she muttered.

Phone reassembled, Pepper grabbed her drink carrier and sat on the bench of an abandoned bus stop. She hadn't ridden the bus in ages – she'd been saving her money carefully ever since her firm had "downsized" and she'd been left jobless. Right now, she couldn't care less. The wind was really starting to pick up, her feet where aching from the heels she'd worn to a job interview that morning (she hadn't had time to change before Anna sent her straight back outside on a quest for caffeine), and she currently had two cups of coffee and no one to drink them with. She was going to be evicted from her apartment, and all she really had to pack was her stack of Help Wanted ads currently testing the strength of her TV-tray-sized desk.

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself. "I'm going to be _homeless_."

Pepper Potts did not do homeless. Pepper Potts had worked from a young age to be successful in everything she did. Pepper Potts got up at 6 am to jog around the city and reported to work promptly by 9, shower-fresh and ready to slay dragons, if that's what her job demanded. Pepper Potts was efficient, she was dependable, and she was self-sufficient, damn it.

_Dang_ it. Pepper Potts did not swear, because Pepper Potts was a mature adult.

"Hey, I don't mean to be a dick or anything, since your face looks kind of tragic and heartbroken right now, but then stuff like that's never bothered me before. So. Are you going to drink both of those?"

Pepper glanced up, surprised that anyone would dare bother her in the middle of her crisis. Could this man not see that her world was imploding?

Well, good. Don't let him see. Strength, confidence, poise, Potts.

The man wasn't older than her, she thought; or if he was, it wasn't by much. He was wearing (nicely-tailored) tan pants and a navy jacket – he would've look right at home on a yacht, smoking a cigar and drinking brandy, if he hadn't been wearing old tennis shoes and a cheap pair of aviator sunglasses from the vendor down the block.

"Excuse me?" asked Pepper, infusing her voice with all the confidence she could muster. Heaven forbid this man try to hit on her right now.

"It's just, that extra coffee looks like it's causing all kinds of mental anguish for you. So I thought I'd be a good neighbor and take it off your hands. Plus, it's freezing and I really want coffee."

"Sure, take it." What was the point in refusing him? What was the point of anything? Oh, what if she had to become a prostitute? She couldn't handle that kind of lifestyle! What if –

"What is it?"

"Sorry?" Control yourself, Potts, you're not going to end up a hooker. Not today.

"The coffee?" He gestured towards the carrier, and Pepper noticed the watch on his right wrist.

Wow. Definitely right at home on a yacht.

"Oh, the one on the right is a caramel macchiato, and the other is just plain black coffee."

She was about to add, _"And it's mine,"_ but the stranger already plucked it out of the carrier.

"Hmm. Dark roast. Costa Rican? Good taste. See how random acts of kindness can make someone's day a little brighter?" He tilted the cup towards her in a mock toast, before turning to stroll away.

"You're welcome!" Pepper shouted back at him, exasperated. "Wish someone would make my day, for once."

The latter was muttered under her breath, but evidently the stranger heard, because he spun almost comically on his heel and jogged back to her.

"Bad day? Let me guess…boyfriend dumped you? No? Girlfriend, then? Don't give me that look, I'm just being progressive, sheesh. Your dog died – no, your cat died. No, you don't seem like much of a cat person. You just won the lottery but on the way to redeem your ticket you were mugged by some hoodlum teens in saggy pants and all you have left in the world are these two cups of coffee? You – "

"My roommate is eloping. To England, of all places." Pepper wasn't sure why she was telling him this, except that the person she would usually vent her feelings to was halfway to the airport at this point.

"Ah, England. I have fond memories of that country. Actually, I can't remember much of my trip, but there're some excellent pictures – "

Pepper rolled her eyes, and maybe he could tell she wasn't in much of a friendly mood, because he paused thoughtfully for a moment. "People come and go, you know? You'll get over it." Which was strangely comforting. Perhaps because it was the most honest response to her situation, not the usual litany of empty promises.

"In the meantime, I have to either convince my landlord to take pity on me or find a new place to live. I can't pay for it without Anna."

The words slipped out, unbidden; though Pepper couldn't see much of the man's face, there was something almost endearing about the laugh lines folded around his grinning mouth.

"You know, if your job isn't paying enough, I hear Stark Industries is hiring."

"I don't know much about weapons technology," admitted Pepper. "I'm more the secretary, event-planner type. Or at least, I was."

"Great, then. It's settled. Tony Stark is looking for a new PA."

"Tony Stark? As in, _the_ Tony Stark? I thought he renounced his claim on the company years ago." Pepper always made a point to stay updated on current events, and the story of the black sheep rejecting his father's business empire had dominated the news more than once in the past few years.

The stranger stood, draining the last of his coffee and cramming the empty cup back into the carrier. "Well, word on the street is, he's back and ready to take the company by storm. Or something. Check tomorrow's papers, you'll see. And when I've been fully validated, drop off an application. Stark Industries is way into finding new faces."

Pepper wasn't sure if she was more surprised by this supposed omniscience or the rudeness (he could very well throw his own cup away!), but before she could reply, he was already walking away.

"Best of luck to you, Pepper!" he called over his shoulder, before a sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. The man slid inside without another backwards glance.

Pepper sat in shock, wondering how on earth he knew her name. She glanced at her empty cup and, sure enough, _Pepper_ was scrawled in impatient black ink across the side.

Shaking her head, Pepper threw the carrier away – she hadn't sunk low enough yet to drink the sugary mess Anna called coffee – and stepped back into the fray of moving bodies. Her head was full enough to occupy her on the way home, and she didn't want to waste money on the bus, anyway.

It was the first time Pepper Potts met Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Next chapter up a little earlier than expected - I had some free time. Just some quick notes: first off, thanks to everyone for the follows/favorites/reviews. You guys rock! Second, I listed the category as "Avengers" because for some reason Iron Man wasn't listed under movies, only comics. And since this is based on the movieverse, I didn't want to label as comics. So, despite the tag, it is an Iron Man story, not an Avengers fic. Reviews are always appreciated! Next chapter should be up this weekend.**

"Well, Ms. Potts, you're certainly qualified. I'll be sure to pass your résumé along to Mr. Stark."

Obadiah Stane turned his oily smile on Pepper, who tried not to flinch. There was something subtly odious about the man – like a beloved grandfather prone to random tirades of racism. Still, he was the head (_ex-head_) of Stark Industries and, more importantly, the man who could decide whether or not to patch her application through to Mr. Stark.

Yes, _the_ Tony Stark. Pepper had been as surprised as anyone when the news had flashed across the her TV screen that night. She'd dropped her toothbrush, almost choking on the minty foam in her mouth, before rushing to compile a résumé. After all, if her mystery informant had known that Tony Stark was returning to the company, perhaps he was right about the PA job as well.

And he had been – she'd applied and now, only 2 days later, she was being interviewed in the swankiest office she'd ever seen. Everything was high-end, high-tech, and high class. Sharp white edges with veins of electric blue light – Stark Industries was everything the papers said and more. Pepper couldn't help but feel out of place; she was in her finest, a high-waisted black skirt and a wine-colored blouse. She felt certain every employee could smell the cheap scent of clearance prices that hung about the outfit – she had yet to see a single woman here in shoes without a red sole.

_At least,_ thought Pepper dryly, _I got an interview before I got evicted and couldn't shower_.

"I think that will be all for now, Ms. Potts," said Obadiah, and Pepper realized his last comment had been a dismissal. Blushing slightly, she grabbed her purse and stood, extending her still-quavering hand. She was a tad disappointed she hadn't gotten to meet Mr. Stark, but overall, she wasn't surprised. Even if she got the job, Pepper didn't think she'd see much of the billionaire, PA or not.

"Thank you again for your time – "

"Obi! What'd I miss?"

The doors banged open and _the_ Tony Stark blew in like a cool breeze.

Now, Pepper Potts was a levelheaded woman. She didn't pour over trashy tabloids like they were Gospel, and she didn't stalk celebrities across the web. They were just people, a fact of which she was well aware.

But then, Tony Stark was a close to a celebrity as she'd ever meet, and okay: she was a little bit starstruck.

He wasn't as young as he appeared on her crappy TV screen – not old, not by any stretch of the imagination, but up close she could see little wrinkles worming their way around his eyes and nestling in the corners of his mouth. He was shorter in person too, but his height hardly mattered when his personality was larger than life. His hair was soft, ungelled and unstyled, as though he'd simply rolled out of bed, into his two thousand dollar suit, and over to Stark Industries.

To complete his cocky schoolboy persona, that trademark for which he was so well known, Stark was chewing an apple as loudly and obnoxiously as possible.

"Tony!" shouted Obadiah in a booming, genial voice. "I didn't think you were coming in today."

Stark shrugged easily, hopping onto the edge of Obadiah's desk and sitting cross-legged. "I thought picking out my personal assistant should be, you know, personal. So I came to conduct some interviews." He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.

Pepper glanced uncertainly between the two men. There was the tiniest crackle of tension filtering through the air, and she couldn't help but wonder if the passing of the reins from Stane to Stark had been as smooth as the papers claimed.

"Well, that's a good idea. But I was just finishing the last interview now. I trust your judgment, Tony," added Obadiah hastily, noticing, as Pepper had, the coolly raised eyebrow and pouty lips forming on Stark's face, "I just know how you get with pretty women. And the majority of the applicants _were_ pretty women." Obadiah waved an airy hand at Pepper in example. She supposed he meant it as a compliment, calling her pretty, but she wasn't sure she liked the insinuation. As though she only applied so she could ogle Tony Stark all day!

"Right. Well, speaking of pretty applicants, while you're here…" Stark reached across the desk and quickly snagged her application from Stane's hand. "Virginia Potts. Cute, very…rustic…So, Ms. Potts – it is Ms., yeah? Good. Okay. So, Ms. Potts, are you an aspiring young inventor?"

"Uh, no – "

"Do you know the atomic weight of iridium off the top of your head?"

"Um – "

"Have you ever programmed an artificial intelligence system?"

"Isn't that your job?" asked Pepper, feeling a bit annoyed. She hadn't applied for any kind of engineering position, for heaven's sake! "I don't know much about the cutting edge technology at Stark Industries, but I know how to find information on it. I don't know how to program – robots, or whatever – but I know how to organize _your_ life. And I'm not an aspiring young inventor because I'm an experienced veteran of the business world already."

Obadiah looked shocked, which Pepper understood; she'd been feeding him the same old "reliable, hard-working, dedicated to the cause!" bit that most employers wanted to hear. Stark, on the other hand, grinned at her. "Think fast," he replied, tossing the apple at her. Pepper, slightly disgusted (she wasn't a germaphobe, per se, but she _hated_ spit) lashed out instinctively, backhanding the apple by some divine intervention straight into the trash can. Tony whistled through his teeth.

"I like you. You're…snappy."

"Snappy?" asked Pepper. It sounded like a compliment, but an odd one at best.

"Snappy!" gasped Tony, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "No, not snappy…Spicy! You're Pepper, aren't you?"

Pepper blinked. She'd gone by Pepper since she was a child, but the nickname wasn't anywhere on her résumé.

"From the bus stop, remember? You had excellent taste in coffee. Well, not so much whatever was in the other cup. I was pretty hungover, but I remember the name. Photographic memory, and all. I guess my overwhelming charm convinced you to apply?"

"That was you?" Pepper blurted, eyes growing wide. Oh, for the love of all that was good, she'd told _Tony Stark_, of all people, that she was broke and nearly homeless? Certainly he wouldn't hire her now – not knowing what a failure she was.

"Yep! Congratulations, you were the first to witness the heroic return of the prodigal son. Or at least I think that's what they're calling it. Well!" Stark leapt down from the desk, clapping his hands together with relish. "I guess we're done here. I need to get back to the lab, I left something of a…_delicate_ nature waiting. Does eight tomorrow work for you? Pepper?"

"Oh!" Pepper hadn't realized he was talking to her. _Keep it smooth, Potts_. "Does…wait, what?" _So smooth_.

"Eight? Tomorrow? Morning? I mean, _I_ won't be up, unless the zombie apocalypse starts or something. But I have a mess of emails you can start sorting through and of course, I know the PR people want to get to some events, throw my face out there a little. Like I haven't been in the magazines enough. Anyway. Eight?"

"So does this mean I'm…hired?"

Stark nodded. "Yep! Grab a badge from Happy on your way out, it'll be your keycard for the building. My office is on the top floor, which means your office is on the top floor. We can figure out salary later. And here."

Stark fished something out of his pocket and, once again, tossed it to her. This time, Pepper managed to catch it. It was a sleek, black rectangle. She would've thought it was a phone, but they couldn't really be this thin, could they?

"I saw that old transistor radio 'phone' you were lugging around the other day. Consider this a gift from the company. My number is already programmed into it – house, office, cell – and so is Obi's. And there's a direct line to JARVIS too, if needed."

Stark grabbed her free hand, still hanging weightless at her side, and pumped her arm up and down in a quick handshake. "Welcome to Stark Industries, Ms. Potts." And then he was gone.

"So…that's it? Just like that? Can he do that?"

Obadiah sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Tony can do whatever he likes. He's never been big on convention. So, I guess, yes. You're hired." He stood then, gesturing with a sweep of his broad arm to the door. Not wanting to push her luck, Pepper scurried out with another quick "thank you" and retrieved her badge from the man at the desk who was, in fact, named Happy.

On the cab ride home, Pepper turned her new phone over and over in her hands, fingers sliding wonderingly across the blank surface. A clean slate. A fresh start. Of all the questions still nagging her about her unexpected luck, one pounded the most insistently through her head.

"Who on earth is Jarvis?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Nope, I definitely did not forget about this story or abandon it! A hundred apologies, my dear readers, but February was the worst month. I had way too much to do and too much stress to update at all. However, I should be able to go back to regular updates every weekend now. Hope you all haven't given up hope on me yet! Reviews are always appreciated :)**

Pepper wasn't sure what time Mr. Stark was planning on coming in, but she certainly wasn't expecting the call from him that came only minutes after entering the office. She was early – she'd had to walk, no longer having enough money to spend on public transportation. Thankfully, she didn't live far from Stark Industries' LA office, unlike Mr. Stark who, it appeared, was determined to commute every day from his house in Malibu. Pepper supposed having a nice car and driver made the trip a bit more bearable.

Still, she'd arrived at 7:50 on the dot, not expecting to hear from Stark until 9 or later; after all, the man was notorious for his easygoing habits. She'd just set her purse underneath her new desk (which was bigger than the bed in her apartment and had three separate computer screens on it) when the phone on her desk hummed to life impatiently.

"Stark Industries, Ms. Potts speaking, how may I assist you?" There, she thought proudly, just the perfect blend of servile and professional. Not bad, seeing as she'd had absolutely no training for this job whatsoever. In fact, she hadn't even really gotten a job description. Or any kind of salary range. Or even a schedule…

"Pepper? You still there?" The voice on the end of the line jarred Pepper out of her increasingly frantic thoughts. It was familiar to her already, and yet…

"Mr. Stark? Why – why are you whispering?"

"Tony, please, Pepper – Mr. Stark makes me sound so…mature. It's bad for my image. And the last thing I need is for my employees to associate me with my genetic donor."

"Gen – you mean your father?" Pepper hugged the phone between her ear and shoulder, trying to log on to one of the servers in front of her, in case Tony wanted to schedule an appointment or make a memo or something. The screen flashed at her, the annoying, blocky text whining that she'd entered her password wrong twice and would be locked out if she continued.

"Yeah, father, if you want to go with the technical relationship. And speaking of – I need you to come see me right away."

"Are you in your office already?" asked Pepper, her eyes growing wide. She knew she shouldn't have adjusted her underwear in front of those plate-glass doors – itchy new thong be damned, she should have known she'd be spotted by someone. And now Tony had probably seen and would throw her out for being a disgrace to the company and she hadn't even finished her coffee yet…

"No! God, no, I'm still at my house. Along with, uh, a houseguest. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble – well, no offense, but even if it is – I need you to run down here and deal with her. JARVIS refuses to help me out. They say chivalry is dead, but I guess they weren't counting the conservative ideology of advanced artificial intelligence programs – anyway! Happy is outside, the car is already running, and if you leave now you'll probably make it here before she gets up. I don't want her wandering around and touching my stuff. I hate when people touch my stuff. In fact, JARVIS will inform you when you arrive exactly which stuff your position allows you to touch. You're a lifesaver, Pep! See you in the office at noonish? We'll do lunch. Ciao!"

The phone went silent instantly. Pepper felt breathless, her heart thrumming with the half-panicked adrenaline of tipping too far back in a chair or ascending the first hill of a roller coaster. Mr. Stark – or Tony, or whoever – was a force to be reckoned with; at 8 in the morning, he was already buzzing with the frenetic energy that contributed largely to his charm.

Pepper was not in the mood to find her new boss charming. In fact, she had half a mind to confront him later about his dismissive treatment of women and demeaning expectations for her job. She wasn't entirely sure what she'd signed up for with this job, but it certainly wasn't this!

Still, it was only her first day and there were still plenty of details to hash out. She'd just broach the subject with Mr. Stark – Tony – later, when he wasn't trying to sneak away from a one night stand.

Besides, her computer screen chose that moment to blink out, informing her that she'd spent too long typing her password, thus making her a threat to security, and needed to contact a supervisor. Grabbing her coffee – she had a feeling she'd need the caffeine-induced energy boost – Pepper headed back to the lobby.

* * *

The drive with Happy was long, but not unpleasant. Happy seemed genuinely kind and talkative, easily moving the conversation along while Pepper slowly revived through her coffee. The man had worked for Tony for a long time, he said, and he clearly hadn't lost his mind over it yet. Pepper had tentatively asked if "Mr. Tony" (her own private compromise on the name issue) was always so chaotic, and Happy had laughed gleefully, like a young boy impressed by the antics of his older brother. Tony, Happy explained, was a breed unto himself.

"Smartest man I've ever met, but that's just the problem, you see? His brain just works so fast that the people around him can't always keep up. Especially here in California – the most mellow people in the world live right here in California. I remember when we first moved here – he's had the house for awhile, but then, Tony's got houses everywhere, never really stayed in one place for long – and we were waiting for his driver at the airport (he had a different driver then, I was strictly security and witty repartee at the time) and when the guy finally shows up, he asks why we were in such a hurry! An hour late, and he thought we were too worried about 'punctuality' and 'running the rat race' and all that. Tony really liked him, fit right in with his attitude, but then we found out he ran a pot business on the side, and the kid was high as a kite half the time he was driving, and I just couldn't in good conscience let him keep driving Tony around. I've got nothing against his lifestyle, but you can't be driving around one of the world's greatest minds when you're stoned. Who knows what could've happened? Ah, looks like we're here."

Happy pulled the car around the circular driveway of a beautiful cliff-side mansion. Pepper thought such houses only existed in Hollywood sets – but then, with the kind of money Tony Stark had, nothing was too extravagant or too expensive an indulgence.

Happy rolled the window down as she got out. "I'll just wait for you here – I hate to see a pretty lady cry." He twisted the radio knob and a Katy Perry song blasted through the speakers before Pepper had a chance to ask who Happy thought would be crying. Straightening her brand-new blazer (paid for by money she'd borrowed from her cranky old neighbor, Madame Millet, who'd had an inexplicable soft spot for Anna), Pepper pushed open the doors to the house, belatedly surprised to find them unlocked.

"Hello, Ms. Potts. I would like to state for the record that I for one do not condone Mr. Stark's actions, and that I find you to be an admiral young lady."

The voice echoing from the ceiling was male, smooth and cultured with a slightly metallic tint. Pepper spun in a slow circle, her inner interior designer (a major she'd pursued for nearly three years in college) swooning with delight over the tasteful aesthetic of the house. There was no one else in the room.

"My apologies, miss. My name is JARVIS, and I am Mr. Stark's personal AI system, in charge of running Mr. Stark's household. I'm afraid he often oversteps the limits he himself programmed into me – I do hope you haven't been overly inconvenience with your trip here, Ms. Potts."

The voice, now that Pepper had recovered from her shock, was obviously issuing from the speakers discreetly placed around the room. The cultured undertone she'd noticed earlier solidified into a distinctly British tone, and Pepper hid a smile. Who knew Tony would buy into the cliché of having a British butler? Albeit a nontraditional one.

"So…you're a robot?" Pepper admitted to herself that maybe, if she was going to work at one of the leading names in technology, she should've first gleaned some basic background information on…well, technology. She'd never even owned a dishwasher before, for heaven's sake!

"If that's what you prefer to call me, then I won't be offended. Heaven knows I've heard worse from Mr. Stark. Now, if you'd be so kind as to make your way upstairs, it appears Mr. Stark's guest has awoken."

"You can see her, too?" blurted Pepper, wondering exactly where JARVIS' eyes were. Or if he had eyes. Or if a fancy robot-house-butler could even technically be called _he_.

"Yes, Ms. Potts," and this time the voice was laced with the slightest patient amusement, "My programming exists throughout this house, as well as in several other mobile devices of Mr. Stark, including but not limited to his cellular phone and laptop computer."

"Oh," said Pepper weakly, before starting towards the staircase on the far side of the room. "JARVIS, isn't it kind of inappropriate for me to go into my boss's bedroom and throw out his date from last night? Like, it's not just me, that's weird – right?" Why Pepper needed validation from a house, she wasn't really sure, but she was starting to become very uncomfortable with the whole idea.

"Far be it from me to define normal, Ms. Potts. My experience with humanity has been quite frankly limited to Mr. Stark and a few of his companions."

"How did you know I was an 'admiral young lady,' though? Did Mr. To – uh, Mr. Stark talk about me?"

The possibility shouldn't make her cheeks feel warm, but her traitorous face was undeniably aflame when she passed a mirror on the wall of the stairwell.

"I conducted my own background research on you, Ms. Potts, if you'll forgive my frankness. I think it shows great strength of character to put yourself through college, especially after your parents – "

"Yes, thank you, JARVIS," interrupted Pepper quickly. The last thing she needed was a reminder of that now.

"My apologies, Ms. Potts. Ms. Peters is in the bedroom to the left at the end of the hall – the guest bedroom, for the record, not Mr. Stark's personal chambers. Her clothes have been dry cleaned and are waiting on a table outside, along with the standard NDA forms. Please see that she signs the papers and gathers her personal belongings before she leaves. A town car has been ordered to take her to her home or place of employment and is waiting outside. That is all."

"Wait!" cried Pepper, suddenly panicked. She, unlike Anna, had never been into clubs or parties or one-night stands, and she had no experience dealing with these types of situations. "What do I say?"

JARVIS was silent for a moment, and Pepper fervently hoped he was Googling "Classy ways to throw your boss's lover out of bed" because she hadn't the slightest idea how to approach the task.

"I shall leave it entirely to your discretion, Ms. Potts."

Well, dang.

* * *

Ms. Peters was young, attractive, and, as it turned out, not a morning person at all. Pepper could feel her face burning as the (completely nude) woman jumped out of the (ridiculously large and plush) bed and started ranting at her, telling Pepper exactly where Mr. Stark could put his NDA. Pepper had to admit that she was very spirited and incredibly creative, especially when it came to her suggestions for how she hoped Tony's next fling would behave. The worst, though, wasn't the screaming, or the insults, or even the stiletto that nearly cost Pepper an eye.

No, the worst was the following calm, when _Lynette Peters_ was scrawled across the bottom of the contract (swearing her to secrecy about the evening, it seemed, if the screaming had been anything to go by) and her perfect cream business dress was smoothed down – looking a million times more professional than Pepper could ever hope to be. Then, she shot Pepper the most sickly sweet smile she'd ever received.

"Only eight hours after me, and he's already got a new plaything? My, my, I wonder how quickly he'll get bored with you? Oh well, at least the money's good, right? And you even get a title that distinguishes you from his other prostitutes." Lynette smirked, grabbed a handbag that cost more than Pepper's yearly rent, and swished out of the room.

Hands shaking, Pepper sank onto the floor of the room – she was definitely _not_ sitting on the bed after a few of the more colorful details Lynette had let slip about the night.

Four hours into her new job and Pepper was pretty sure she'd already developed an ulcer. Oh, she and Mr. Tony were going to have words at lunch, all right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Just when I was getting back in the swing of things...I won't be able to update next week, guys, because I'm leaving on a trip to the Bahamas! And I won't be back until late the following Saturday, so I may not be able to update that week either...but nothing's set in stone. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - that always makes my day! Hope you enjoy!**

Except Tony didn't show up for lunch. In fact, he didn't make an appearance in the office at all. Pepper sat diligently at her desk (Obadiah having walked her through the surprisingly complicated login process) all morning, sorting through emails by order of importance, fielding phone calls, scheduling appointments, and overall treading the waters with unexpected grace. Even Obadiah commented on her performance when he stopped to check for Tony the umpteenth time that day.

"We sure lucked out with you, Ms. Potts," he said with his trademark disquieting smile. "It's like you were born for this job."

Pepper wanted to argue that no, she was born (and raised and educated in a high-profile business school, thank you very much) to be a CEO, to run a _business_, not a business_man_. But instead she smiled, glanced discreetly at the clock, and wished him a pleasant lunch break.

By five o'clock, it was time for her to gather her belongings and go home. No one besides Obadiah had talked to her all day, excluding the early morning call from Tony, and Pepper still had no set hours or salary. If the rest of the office was emptying out at five, however, she certainly wasn't sticking around.

Pepper hit the lobby, feet already aching in her heels – she hadn't been unemployed long, but man, she was out of practice. She was surprised to see Happy loitering by the front desk, yesterday's paper in his bulb-jointed hands, dressed as casually as before in cargo shorts and a polo shirt. She was even more surprised when he stood and waved her over.

"How'd the first day go?" he asked eagerly, and Pepper felt a sudden swell of emotion towards the man. It suddenly occurred to her how unwelcoming an environment she'd experienced today.

"It was surprisingly okay."

"Listen, Tony wanted me to apologize for him bailing on lunch today. Rhodey sent him new specs for some military gadget and Tony's been holed up in his lab all day, working out the kinks. He wants to reschedule for tomorrow and he sent you – " Happy turned around, fumbling in the bag underneath his chair before reemerging triumphantly "– this!"

It was a bouquet of flowers, a mixture of foreign colors and shapes that far outstripped roses with their exotic beauty. And their extravagance.

"Happy, no, I can't except these! That's so – unprofessional, for one, and odd, frankly, and – "

Happy cut her off with a genial laugh. "Between you and me, Ms. Potts, I don't think Tony knows how to apologize in any other way. He was all for buying jewelry, but JARVIS talked him off the ledge on that one."

Pepper grudgingly held out her hands for the arrangement. They really were lovely, and they'd brighten up her apartment considerably – the place had been looking awfully drab since Anna left, taking her framed photos and paint-splattered canvases with her.

"Tony also wanted you to look over this," and now he was producing a manila envelope from thin air and handing it over, "they're the details of your employment. He said to go through, mark it up with suggestions, comments, complaints, questions, and philosophical remarks to be discussed and negotiated tomorrow."

Pepper juggled the flowers around in her arms long enough to accept the envelope and drop it into her purse (and really, when she got her first paycheck, she should look into getting a briefcase or something more professional than the knockoff Coach she'd gotten on a street corner in New York). "Thanks, Happy," she told the man, real gratitude warming her voice. Happy blushed slightly, the bashful expression giving him the look of an overgrown schoolboy.

"Nah, don't thank me, Ms. Potts, just doin' my job. Speaking of, I'm also here to offer you a ride home if you didn't drive your own car here."

"I don't have a car, actually, but I'm fine with taking the bus," Pepper remarked casually, noting with alarm the abrupt change in Happy's expression.

"No car? Well, maybe I can talk to Tony, get something sorted – a girl like you shouldn't have to take the bus every day! There even a bus stop around here?"

"It's a few blocks off, but really, Happy, I'm fine walking." The last bit, at least, was a bald-faced lie. Her feet felt swollen inside her heels, which were actually hand-me-downs from Anna. _Curse her and her china doll feet_.

"Now, Ms. Potts, you don't really want to make me shirk my duties, do you? That'd get me in trouble with the boss, and you wouldn't want to do that to me after I brought you flowers and everything, right?"

Pepper grinned. "I thought they were from Tony?"

"Still, I coulda kept them for myself. I've got a vase they'd look right at home in back at the house."

Pepper laughed. He was already here, after all, and she did like his company… "Fine, but just this once, okay? I don't need to be chauffeured around like some fancy big-shot millionaire."

"Billionaire, actually," Happy corrected as they headed out of the building.

Pepper glanced behind her; the neon Stark Industries sign glowed like an ice-blue beacon in a chaotic swirl of gaudy reds, dull golds, and flaming pinks. It was a smooth block of high-tech genius, the epitome of a booming business, and Pepper could hardly believe she held an office on the top floor. A few days ago, she was sure her life was over, and now? She was – both metaphorically and literally – on top of the world.

* * *

Pepper still wasn't quite used to returning home to an empty apartment. Sure, Anna used to go out all the time, and back in the heyday of her relationship with Chad, she'd slept in his bed more often than her own. Still, there was an undeniable chill of loneliness in the rooms, a lack of laughter and color that made the once-cozy home into a bleak, blank void.

Stupid, Pepper chided herself, dropping her keys into the bowl by the door. There was no need to go full melodrama on her situation. Such meltdowns were reserved for Anna.

Pepper hadn't heard from her friend since she left, but she wasn't too concerned. Anna was flighty and forgetful, and she'd probably already half-dialed Pepper's number a dozen times before being distracted. She'd get around to it eventually.

It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, when Pepper saw the blinking red light on her decrepit mammoth of an answering machine (why the apartment had a landline, she'd never know – those things were practically extinct, like dinosaurs and Crocs). She pressed the playback button as she dropped onto her bed and began removing her shoes.

"_Pep, hey! How are you? I'm surprised you're not at home – well, not really. I'm sure there are a million reasons you're out – ooh! I hope it's a boy! Or a new job. Honestly, you could use both. Anyway, I was really hoping to talk to you, I've got _so much_ to tell you! The weather sucks, of course – I guess people really weren't exaggerating the rain – and I miss that California sun. And I miss you, of course! Sorry I haven't called before, Chad's been riding my ass about wedding details – who'd have thought he'd be more exciting than _me_ about it? Speaking of – you absolutely have to fly in for the wedding. I won't take no for an answer, I don't know anyone here and I need my maid of honor! I swear I won't even try to play Cupid, unless, I mean, you want me to hook you up with one of Chad's coworkers. Oh my God, Pepper, British men are _so_ –_ "

The message cut out with a droning bleep, and Pepper dabbed gently at her eyes. She'd missed Anna more than she'd realized – dirty clothes and appalling language aside, they'd been friends for a long time.

It broke Pepper's heart, knowing that she'd have to miss her friend's wedding. As it stood now, there was no way she'd be able to afford the plane ticket, let alone a hotel. She wondered how she'd tell Anna…and _when_ she'd tell her. What time was it in Britain now? Was it too late to call back?

Pepper was still debating when she noticed the answering machine was still blinking weakly. It was a real piece of work, older than Pepper and unable to play more than one message without the playback button being pressed each time. She pushed the button.

"_Hello, Ms. Potts," crooned a cool female voice from the tinny speaker. "I understand you've just been hired as an assistant at Stark Industries. I also happen to have an idea of your current financial situation as, incidentally, I own the building in which you currently reside. It'd be a shame to be evicted now, wouldn't it? When you're so close to being able to pay off your debts…Well, I think I can help you with that. In fact, I think you could find me to be a very generous friend – now that Ms. Belstrade has moved out, I'm sure you could use a friend, couldn't you? I'll be at the Sunflower Café tomorrow at noon – it'd be in everyone's best interest if you took the time to meet with me, Virginia. And do keep it a secret from Mr. Stark – we have quite the sordid history. I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Potts_."

The machine beeped again, but Pepper was suddenly too numb to notice. She had a sinking feeling in her gut about this meeting; it sounded like refusal wasn't much of an option.

Pepper groaned and threw herself back on her mattress. She'd gone from the depths of despair to the top of the world, and after a few short hours, it seemed she was plummeting downward again.


End file.
